Checking In with the IAC, G and G, and OVMC

A couple of weeks ago, we made a return visit to the International Adoption Clinic at the University of M*nnesota.  I had talked with the attachment specialist there in early April about some concerns regarding Sarah's behavior --mainly her fierce defiance and remarkable meltdowns.  The specialist gave me some suggestions, but she was hesitant to offer guidance because she hadn't seen Sarah in almost a year.  She recommended that we schedule a face-to-face appointment if we didn't see improvement by late spring.

Her limited advice actually made a big difference in Sarah's demeanor.  I think I've already admitted that she isn't the only one in the household with control issues.  While I tried to let her do things on her own, I still expected her to do them my way.  As you can imagine, given our respective strong wills, this led to much knocking of heads.  I was adamant that she do what I told her so that she knew I was in charge and taking care of her, which is important for an adopted child.  She was determined to be independent. 

One of the situations that brought out the worst in both of us was when Sarah was completing a multi-step activity, such as washing hands, and I would reflexively do one of the last steps for her.  She'd throw a fit and insist on starting the whole thing over.  I would resist, and things would quickly escalate.  The specialist framed it well for me, explaining that my power comes from setting up the structure of daily activities and Sarah's comes from being able to do them successfully.  I say she has to wash her hands before dinner; she has to complete the task, her way, starting over if necessary.

I was also a little concerned about Sarah's lack of affection toward Don and me.  From our first day together, she has wanted to be held and close to us, but she hardly ever initiated hugs or kisses and sometimes would resist them.  This seemed odd to me, after being with us for 20 months.  The specialist wasn't worried, though.  She said to just approach affection on Sarah's terms and give it time.

About a week after our conversation, Sarah and I flew to M*ssachusetts to visit my family.  As I recounted in an earlier post, she was sick the whole visit, and at her most controlling.  When we returned home, though, her behavior improved dramatically.  She was more mellow and increasingly affectionate.  She started offering hugs and kisses (pure bliss!) and let go of some of the minutiae of day-to-day life.  She no longer had high-intensity meltdowns and recovered quickly from disappointments.  It was a huge relief.

Of course, ever on the lookout for trouble (and reassurance), I still wanted to talk with the specialist in-person.  Don didn't see the need, but I figured there was nothing to lose and a lot to gain.  If there really were some problems, we could learn the best way to approach them and treat them while Sarah's still young, saving us all frustration and pain.  Just as valuable, though, would be learning there were no concerns.  I knew it would make a world of difference for me to know that Sarah was a well adjusted little girl.  And that, of course, would make a world of difference for her and Don.  :)

So, we made the trek to the Tw*n Cities.  And it was worth it.  We spent more than an hour with the specialist, Sarah playing with toys and markers while the adults talked.  I left convinced that Sarah is doing great and is a healthy, firmly attached, strong-willed almost-three-year-old.

The specialist was impressed by how Sarah interacted with her, a stranger.  I was seated beside the woman, and Don was on the other side of me.  Sarah began the session leaning on Don's leg when talking with her and taking toys she offered.  After a bit, Sarah moved closer and leaned on me while interacting with her.  After about half an hour, Sarah moved beyond the woman to a game board mounted on the wall.  And, when she'd had enough of all the talking, Sarah announced "all done" and moved toward the door.  The specialist said this was the type of behavior they like to see.  When confronted with an unfamiliar person and situation, Sarah stuck close to Mom and Dad at first then gradually separated and became independent and confident.

We talked at length about Sarah's defiance and stubbornness.  I had recently developed a theory that Sarah's strong will may be related to her "only-child" status.  With no close siblings to compete with and sometimes lose out to, she is firmly convinced that she is the center, and therefore the supreme ruler, of the universe.  No amount of discipline can persuade her that she isn't the focus of our household, because she is. 

The specialist took this idea even further and pointed out that, in addition to not having to share us with siblings, given our unusual situation where both Don and I are home all the time, she doesn't have to share us with work, either.  She is used to a world of unlimited parental resources.  Throw in her apparently innate strong will, and she sees no reason to give up on what she wants.  Interestingly, I've noticed that she is much better behaved when Don is gone for a few days.  Perhaps cutting her parental resources in half makes an impression on her, and she toes the line more.

I described to the specialist a situation that had produced a now-unusual tantrum from Sarah.  I found her playing with a tube of hand lotion in her room (the girl can't get enough lotion!).  When she wouldn't hand it to me, I came up with what I thought was a good compromise.  I told her she could put a little more in her hand then give me the tube.  She did both, but then she refused to rub the lotion in anywhere.  I told her to rub it on her arm.  She said, "No, leg."  Succombing to my own control demons, I said, "No, arm."  She said, "No, foot."  Digging in, I said, "No, arm.  If you don't rub it on your arm right now, I'll wipe it off your hand."  She responded with a steely gaze.  I wiped the lotion off her hand, and she went ballistic.  Not exactly a successful negotiation.

The specialist suggested I avoid absolutes and give Sarah choices.  While I try to do this, I slip up sometimes, like with the lotion, and it's hard to backtrack once I've told her what to do.  I need to remember that her rigidity is an important developmental stage that will pass, though.  I wish I could say the same for myself.

We were relieved to report to the specialist that Sarah now stays with her babysitter quite happily, and even looks forward to seeing her.  We were gone for four hours a couple of weeks ago, and everything went great.  The specialist was pleased and said that, since Sarah will soon be three, we should work on making her even more independent.  She suggested preschool, but I don't think that's in our budget.  We have some new friends who have a 10-month-old boy and have offered to watch Sarah while we catch a movie or dinner.  Sarah really likes them, so we plan to try leaving her with them in late July.  That seems like a good next step.  I'll also keep an eye out for opportunities for her to separate from us a bit.

Of course, no discussion about Sarah would be complete without covering sleep.  After we returned from M*ssachusetts in April, Sarah started getting up really early, around 4:30 a.m.  After she fell asleep at lunch a couple of times, I started rocking her to sleep for naps.  She cooperated, was usually asleep in 10-15 minutes, and snoozed for a couple of hours.  I relished having time to myself again.  I paid for it in the evening, though, when it often took nearly an hour for her to go to sleep and she insisted I stay in our bedroom the whole time.  That didn't leave much time for me to spend with Don, since we head to bed at 9:00.  She obviously wasn't tired enough to doze off if she'd had a nap, even though she was getting only 10-11 hours of sleep total.

The attachment specialist said 10 hours of sleep total is plenty for Sarah and suggested we drop the naps.  Although everything I've read says three-year-olds need more than that, I accept that there are differences among individuals, so I agreed to try it.  For the last week-and-a-half, we've substituted quiet time for nap.  Sarah drops off quickly at bedtime and has been sleeping until 7:00 a.m., getting about 11 hours.  She is doing well with quiet time and can spend almost an hour coloring, "reading," and talking on her phone, checking in with me every 20 minutes or so.

After our appointment at the IAC, we visited Grandma and Grandpa for a while, then took Grandma to see Big Sister Rachel in her concert with One V*ice Mixed Chorus in M*nneapolis.  We got there early to get seats in the back, since we weren't sure how Sarah would do.  She and I then went for a walk in the big city.  She loved the city buses. 

The concert was a blast!  The songs were multicultural and uplifting, and Rachel had a major role in one of them.  A percussion group called Crash performed amazing feats with drumsticks.  It was a little stressful in the beginning, when they were making their grand entrance and playing on just about everything but drums, with no background music.  Sarah kept asking in a big voice, "Where's Rachel?"  She settled down once things got going, though, and stayed engaged even though she was tired.  She finally gave in and fell asleep in my lap partway into the second set (I love that feeling!).

We spent the night at Grandma and Grandpa's, then headed home.  It was a whirlwind trip, but I returned reassured and reinvigorated.  Sarah's stubbornness is much easier to take now that I know it's normal, age-appropriate behavior.  The more relaxed I am, the better things go, so we're doing well.